We ate dinner together all the time. A good seven nights. Always. My father would make all of us pray before we ate.
It would always go wrong. Very dysfuctional family. I'd always get into arguements with my father, (Mostly about religion). My mother nervously trying to get us off the subject of whatever we were talking about. "The Cleaver family." Ya right. One of my brothers would make me laugh (and there is no laughing at the dinner table!) and I'd end up getting slapped. It was horrible. No family bonding at all. Just structure and disipline.
EDIT- Oh ya, did lots of drugs! Mostly pot and booze.